


Inevitable

by prowlish



Series: commissions [8]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mentor/Protégé, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-04-19 18:22:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4756448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prowlish/pseuds/prowlish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kup is there when Springer is revived, and everything comes crashing down again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inevitable

**Author's Note:**

> This is quite a late commission for billerbat over on tumblr. As always, my insecurities are kicking in, despite how much fun and how proud I am of this fic. I truly hope you enjoy it, and I want to thank you for your kindness, understanding, patience, and generosity through everything.
> 
> More thanks to: Arianne, goodnyte, Ky, and Zoe, for always believing in me and supporting me through my darkest times. And thanks to the twitter crew (y'all know who you are) for being enthusiastic and supportive no matter what.

Being literally shocked awake was a harsh way to be pulled out of a fugue state. Springer felt energized but sore, a burning sensation all through his chassis that stung to his extremities. His HUD flooded bright with notifications: new plating, facial reconstruction, joint replacement, time loss… With a grunt, he shunted them into a queue in favor of examining his surroundings. Technicalities he could worry about later. Nearby, and turning to pack away a bulky device was --

"First Aid?"

The nurse -- or, he'd been a nurse, last Springer had known of him -- gave him a bright look. He felt sure the mech was smiling behind the facemask, with the prick of elation in his energy field tingling against Springer’s own. "Welcome back, Springer."

Springer blinked. "Uh, yeah -- "

"Yeah." A different voice, one Springer would know anywhere. Springer snapped his attention over his shoulder, feeling the familiar warmth in his spark. "Welcome back, lad."

"Kup." He said it almost reverently.

Just by looking at him, it came crashing down on Springer's helm.

Kup knew.

-x-

For a long time, the purgatory of the coma had been a vague, indistinct cloud enveloping his mind. Noise and color were there, but distant and bland through the dense fog of his mind. Everything blended into an echo that Springer couldn't seem to discern.

At some point, one voice cut clearly through the mist. Roadbuster? He talked all the time, it seemed, but didn't talk -- they weren't his words.

Color rushed back into his world when _Roadbuster_ talked to him. Simply talked. Springer had no hope of recalling what it was Roadbuster said to him, but it finally sounded like him, it was finally Roadbuster talking to Springer. Somehow, that made all the difference.

He dreamed then. No more heavy grey. It was all motion and sound and emotion and memory. He dreamed about long days training under Kup's guidance. He dreamed about when Impactor welcomed him into the Wreckers, a fresh young Autobot even then. He dreamed of the ephemeral 'glory days' when everything was dazzling and thrilling, and the war didn't seem long and unending, or a tarnish upon that golden time.

He dreamed of Pova.

Everything crashed through him in waves. But like the settling of a landslide, the heaviest items hit hard and close and without warning. 

It all came back to Kup. Prowl's face lingered not too far away, the visage of his sins and the guilt of what they'd done separately, to and for, Kup. Even the good memories didn’t outweigh it. Most of those he didn’t even deserve.

Even in his dreams, the glimmer and gold never lasted long. The light always dimmed, the gold always tarnished. Fitting, then, that when he'd awoken to First Aid smiling -- he knew it had been a smile -- the world had seemed a hot, exhilarating rush.

\--And then the landslide came down again. 

-x-

Later, there was energon together, after all the checks and double-checks making sure his every system functioned and every piston fired correctly. Springer had told them he didn't know why everything wouldn't work, considering he'd been laying around getting buffed by Roadbuster for countless stellar cycles. The medics hadn't been amused (save First Aid), but it got a chuckle out of Kup and Roadbuster. The latter somehow managed to look embarrassed about it at the same time. 

That, at least, was worth it.

Now, it was quiet. Private. Energon with Kup -- it should've been a familiar, comforting thing. He should’ve been happy and eager to continue this ritual -- especially when it felt like they’d indulged in it just a week ago. And part of him was… the part that had used his lies of omission, anyway. But with that thought, staring over his cube at Kup, he felt more of an unbreachable gulf than ever. Cameraderie was easier in the public eye. Here, now, he felt the crushing weight on his shoulders -- more acutely than ever, if that were possible. (And he hadn't thought it so, until he'd awoken.)

"Lad, you look like I'm gonna shove your turbopup over an edge," Kup remarked. He hadn’t pushed. All he’d done was invite Springer for energon. And yet...

Springer shook his helm, grunting. Normally that remark made him laugh, or at least smile, but to him it was a painful reminder of how things had been not too long ago. Not to Springer. But he was finding he didn’t like thinking about how much time he’d lost after Garrus-9. His thoughts pulled his lips into a frown. Not hard, with his spark whispering still how he’d had no right to that time, or to the mech sitting beside him.

"I'm serious, Springer." Springer looked up, pulled back to the present again. "Are we gonna talk about it or not?"

Springer felt the weight bear down again, felt like his spark would collapse under itself. He stood as he finished his energon. "Not," he said, and left the room, well aware of the gaze on his back.

-x-

_Being on board the Trion this way still felt new to Springer. It felt as though he should be handing command over to Kup at some point -- or, on some of the very off-kilter days, that Impactor might come strolling onto the bridge at any moment._

_As if any of them could forget Aequitas._

_Springer huffed out a sigh at that. The rest of the team weren't back on board yet from their brief stopover at a space dock, but that was fine with Springer. A quiet moment on the bridge was more than welcome._

_The doors hissed open, but Springer didn't have to look to know it was Kup. Not only from his persistent chomping at his cygar, but he'd be the only one to be back so early._

_"Finding the answers to life on that console, lad?"_

_Springer looked over with a smile, despite the shot of guilt that always came from seeing the cygar poking between Kup's lips._

_"Something close, I guess," he replied, optics glittering. Kup chuckled. "It's... weird. Feels like everything should be so different, after Earth, but..."_

_"But here we are?" Kup supplied._

_Springer grinned sheepishly. "Yeah."_

_"That so bad?" Kup asked. "I mean, the rest of the guys voted on you to lead them ages ago, didn't they?"_

_"Doesn't feel like that long ago, honestly," Springer admitted. Command was always harder than anyone could convey, and commanding the Wreckers was a job and a half. That went without saying, but..._

_Kup grunted. "You're doin' fine, lad. They haven't stopped believin' in you."_

_Springer smiled a little. "That's comforting," he replied. And he meant it. Especially if Kup’s own feelings were included in that._ That _thought would be enough to bolster Springer through any of his leftover self-doubts._

_Kup snorted. "You keep saying things like that... must be gettin' soft."_

_The larger mech chuckled, but he said nothing more with the sound of Topspin and Twin Twist coming down the hallway._

-x-

Kup wished he could say he dreamt of the good times. And sometimes he did, at the beginning of recharge -- because what was it worth, going through the horror of a millions years long war, if not to be able to treasure what good things there were?

(And oh, Springer had been so good: young and pure-hearted, full of goodness and ideals that eluded most of his comrades.)

But lately, it was all nightmares. Lately, it was waking up, vents laboring, pain in his systems, and always -- always one hand groping for the cygar. Even after all this time, he still reached for it. The thought filled him with disgust, but at least he no longer needed it to keep the nightmare and reality separate. His little trip to the Dead Universe had solved that, somehow. 

It had also lent terrible meaning to his nightmares. They made him even sicker, if it were possible -- but knowing that tearing apart the horrible enemy was memory and not fantasy was unsettling enough, with how vivid the feeling was of energon flowing over his hands, plating bending and rending… But to know that they hadn’t been enemies, but endless rescue teams…

Kup wasn’t sure how he’d endured to this point. Maybe he really had been waiting on Springer’s revival.

Kup stared at the ceiling and chewed on his lips in the memory of the cygar's relief. Coming here was supposed to have been a resolution. Kup was starting to feel like it had only complicated everything.

Oh well. He could wait. He’d been waiting so long already, and.... Well, there was no getting to his age without learning how to wait.

Didn't mean he had to like it, or sleep well on it.

-x-

If all the world's problems could be banished with a smile, Springer's would be the one. He was a recruiter's dream, swaying uncertains with his genuine drive and natural charm, and his ability to bring out the best in people. Or, at least, their desire to be better. (And what a talent for a leader, too!)

But Springer hadn't been smiling much lately. And had Kup expected him to, with what he'd been shouldering? That wasn't anything new -- Springer carried a lot without sharing the burden -- but the younger mech avoiding him? That was different. 

Kup didn't like it. 

At the very base, he wanted to shout, or throw something, even though that was juvenile. He'd settle for locking Springer in a room somewhere, maybe magnetising him to a chair and making him talk. But he knew the mech, and knew anything so dramatic would do just as good as welding his jaw shut. 

What he really wanted was to be close to Springer again. Seeing the mech’s brilliant smile from an intake’s wisp away was enough to make even his old fuel pump tick faster.

But medical had deemed that Springer needed time and observation, just in case. There was no telling how all the repairs might interact now that Springer was up and about, despite the major things like new plating integration having happened when he was in a coma. He wouldn’t even be sore from it, the lucky fragger! Springer had taken that as a cue to brood in his quarters -- or at least, just out of the corner of Kup's sight.

So for now, Kup would just give Springer his space. The shooting range never got old when he needed a distraction -- this body still worked like a charm, despite the weariness that he felt to his core. And there was always energon (or engex), and good company in Roadbuster. Kup knew the Wrecker wanted nothing more than for Springer to join them, but he wasn't stupid: there was something going on and Roadbuster knew better than to get in the middle of it. 

This "zen" approach, as he thought of it, wore thin during the artificial night of their station. Roadbuster still had a steady schedule, and would leave Kup by himself in what became 'their' lounge in little more than a week. Kup stayed there for hours; drinking low-level engex alone while staring out an observation window was preferable to the horror of his unconscious mind.

Sometimes he was sure that Springer lurked behind the entrance to the lounge. Just the engex and the late hour talking, Kup knew, but sometimes he felt it with such certainty that he almost shouted at the door for Springer to come in, already!

Most of the time, he managed to refrain.

Most of the time, he drank alone, and when he stared at the door rather than out the window for too long, he began to doze.

-x-

_Serving as a Wrecker with Springer in command was possibly Kup's favorite assignment by far. Springer had stepped out of a student role to him right as the war was new, but that didn't take from Kup's pride when he saw how Springer handled himself in one of the more difficult commands that the Autobots offered. Excellent, as always._

_And while he showed unwavering strength and passion in his role, Kup was privileged to also see his vulnerability, his uncertainty in his place. And Springer still took it all to Kup, as though the eons he'd lived had given him the wisdom of the ages. Springer always trusted him so completely._

_Kup didn't think of himself as a wiseman, but he sure as hell had enough life experience to apply to anything, he supposed._

_And he was expecting a visit. Kup was already drinking his favorite engex, and though he was alone in his quarters, dim and quiet, he had a second empty cube sitting out in front of the unattended chair next to the little table. The last assignment had been rough, but Kup could practically smell when Springer needed whatever brand of comfort that Kup could offer, anyway. Personally, he didn't think it was much, but time spent with Springer was neither tedious nor wasted._

_Kup grinned a bit around his cygar when he heard a knock on his door. As expected. He rested his half-full cube on the table. "Well, c'mon," he called at the door._

_Springer's broad frame barely seemed like it should fit through the door, but he had a way of moving with a strange sort of grace that suited his stature. Beside that fluidity, he seemed smaller, demure where he was typically bold. Kup knew why, of course, but the point of Springer coming here was for him to say it. Primus only knew why, but talking about things, even those already known like this, was supposed to help. But the larger mech was silent at first as he sat, his blue, blue optics gazing at Kup as though pleading for the right words._

_As if Kup were good at words._

_"Sit down, lad," he finally said, waving at the chair. "Been a rough day, I know. Pour you some engex -- there ya go." Springer did as Kup said -- he was usually pretty good for that -- and drank a surprising first gulp. When it came to drinking, Springer was usually more of a sipper._

_It was probably inappropriate in this moment that he was struck by Springer's looks, but sorrow suited him just as well as his smile. The blue of his optics cast a fine glow over his features -- full lips turned down in a frown, his strong nose and jaw striking against the curves of his helm. Kup sighed. This was about Springer and dealing with the ramifications of this mission. On the whole, it had been a success. They'd achieved their goals, anyway. But the losses... well, they were some of the worst Springer had personally suffered through. It weighed on him, and it showed. Sometimes the young mech seemed like he carried the worries of the whole galaxy on those shoulders. Kup worried about that, maybe more than he should, but for the most part he kept his silence... And he kept his supporting closeness to Springer._

_He wasn't one to pry. But tonight, Springer needed a little prodding._

_"So," Kup said, lifting his own cube to his lips again. "Finally got a moment to yourself?"_

_Something like a smile tugged at the corner of Springer's lips, and Kup felt a very inappropriate flutter of his spark at the sight. "Yeah," Springer said, settling back in the chair._

_Kup grinned a little himself. "And you're spending it in this ol' rustbucket's presence?"_

_That actually got a chuckle -- or at least, a grunt meant to be one. "Nowhere else I'd rather be."_

_Up went Kup's optic ridges, taming his grin just a little. "I'll take it as a compliment," he said, crossing a leg and shifting the cygar around in his mouth. Springer's optics seemed to track that particular tic, but well -- they were all getting used to it still, he supposed. The last time he'd seen one of those... well, better not to go down that petro-rabbit hole, or he'd be telling old drinking stories all through the night. And Springer was probably the only one who'd sit there and listen to it, too._

_Springer shook his helm. "Well, good -- because I'm probably the bad company tonight."_

_"Yeah?"_

_Springer grunted._

_Sighing, Kup sat up in his seat a little. "Alright, lad -- I know what's bothering you, but tell me about it anyway."_

_Springer lifted his helm at that, the frown fading just a little as his jaw relaxed. "I don't really know how to feel," he said, broad shoulders sagging with a sigh._

_Another quirk of an optic ridge. "Uh huh," he said. "Well, since you're sitting here mostly quiet and drinking some engex, I'm assuming you got the anger out. Do I wanna know what your quarters look like right now?"_

_With the way Springer peered up from under his crest at Kup, shoulders hunched in a slouch as he fidgeted one pede across the floor -- Kup had his answer. "You know me too well," Springer muttered. Kup snorted in laughter, but he didn't say anything more. This time, the silence seemed to provoke Springer to speak. "We all know the risks with the Wreckers," he said. "We know the survival rate, we know the kinds of missions we're called in for... and yeah, I've lost plenty of soldiers since I came into command here, but..."_

_He seemed lost again, so after another swig of engex, Kup prompted: "But..."_

_"They were all my recruits," Springer finally said. "I picked them for the assignment, I brought them in... they followed_ me _."_

_Kup nodded. "And now they're all gone." Rough, but simple truth. Springer lowered his helm._

_"Yeah," he muttered._

_"And?" Once again with the prodding._

_"And -- and I feel like I failed them!" The sudden burst of Springer's energy field was hot and anguished, almost as startling as the large fist he banged on the table, making the engex decanter jump alongside his nearly empty cube._

_Kup considered that, rolling the cygar around in his mouth. "The mission was a success," he pointed out._

_Springer huffed, the sound almost whining as his vents dumped heated air. "I know that!" he growled._

_"And you know you can't avoid casualties and deaths."_

_"Of course I know that." Springer's voice was lower, his lips tight as he forced the words out._

_Kup nodded. "So your rookies didn't make it," he said. And that, of course, was an important distinction._ Springer's _rookies, his recruits. Like any good commander, he hated losing soldiers, but he clearly had even more attachment to the ones he'd personally brought into the fold. "None of them, this time. And you're mad at yourself for not being able to prevent that, even though it's inevitable, at some point."_

_Springer growled from his engine again and shoved his drained cube aside. "What are you gonna do, sit here and lecture me about how death is inevitable and I should accept 'certain margins of error'?" he demanded. "Because if I knew that, I would've just called up Prowl for a nice, warm chat. None of this is 'acceptable' amounts of error."_

_Shaking his helm, Kup refilled both their cubes from the decanter before setting it aside again. He pushed Springer's cube back towards his hand. "That ain't what I said, lad," he said. "Although Prowl has a certain point sometimes..." he muttered. Still, he sighed. "I'm saying, you do whatever you need to to let out the anger, but you_ do _have to accept that it's gonna happen. Now, that's not to say you should quit trying, 'cause that's the best thing about you. But you shouldn't hate yourself so much for something that ain't your fault, Springer."_

_The larger mech sighed heavily, something about his energy quieting again. "I feel like I should be doing something more, teaching them something else..." Springer sighed, grabbing up the cube again and sipping from it this time. "I was a rookie too, once. As far as... mission prep, advice, pointers -- I mean, I don't think I've done worse than Impactor. But..."_

_Kup grunted as he leaned back in his chair, funneling another gulp of engex into his mouth. "What makes the vets, and what kills the rookies?" he offered._

_"...Yeah," Springer said, running a hand over his helm. "Sure, I had training, I learned from the best old war dog out there," he shot over at Kup, making him chuckle. "But it isn't as though they haven't fought this war just like the rest of us. They might have been rookies to the Wreckers, but most of them have plenty of combat experience -- hell, that's where the statistics that help in choosing them come from!"_

_Kup tilted his helm. "Alright then, so what is it that has you and me and Roadbuster and the twins, and so on -- how is it that we're still going? What's the critical point?"_

_Springer blasted air from his vents, exasperated. "I don't know!" he said. "The best I can damn tell, we just got lucky!"_

_"Mm, luck's part of it, for sure," Kup said. "The lucky sons o' glitches live, the unlucky bastards get blown away."_

_"Well, when you say it like that, it sounds terribly obvious," Springer muttered._

_Kup shrugged. "Yeah, well, I'm not always so sure we're the lucky ones," he remarked. “We just have more horrible experiences to draw from.”_

_Springer laughed bitterly. "Tell me about it."_

_They were quiet for a long moment, drinking and letting their energy fields wind down and settle into a comfortable proximity. Kup didn't think that was it, but he didn't know how much Springer was going to dive into it. Deep down, he recognized the fear and despair that always came from seeing good young mechs die under a personal command. But despite how frequent these types of visits were, Springer typically acted his emotions out more. He wrecked his room, went excessive rounds in the sparring programs, he yelled and shouted, he channeled it into aggression on the battlefield -- but he rarely sat down to put words to it._

_Not that Kup could blame him. Jumping down that petro-rabbit hole was more daunting than feeling the feelings._

_"So that's it," Springer said. "Us lucky rustbuckets live on."_

_"And on and on and on, in my case," Kup added._

_Finally, it seemed, they shared a laugh. The atmosphere in the room was half as heavy, suddenly. Maybe that was it, then. At least for now._

_And that was fine. There was always time, as far as Kup was concerned._

-x-

"If you want to get checked out, then you could always start with sitting on a medical berth," First Aid said, startling Springer out of his thoughts. He glanced over at the nurse, who was organizing a set of medical implements. 

"Uh -- right, yeah," Springer said. He slipped over to the nearest berth and hopped up on it with ease, his gaze now falling on First Aid finishing up his previous task. Springer had wandered into the medical center several minutes ago, saying he felt that one more physical would be a good idea, after he'd been up and about for several days now.

It was something that Springer would normally not bother following through with. He felt great, honestly. At least, his frame did. His systems functioned at a higher efficiency than he remembered in recent vorns, even. Great what a near-death experience coupled with a long, deep coma did for a body. All he'd had was bots looking after him, making sure his frame worked perfectly while his mind was somewhere else.

Was there much of a difference now? Physically he was sitting on a medical berth a few paces away from First Aid, but no matter where he went, his mind always trekked down the same paths.

"Have you been feeling any pain or soreness?" First Aid asked, bringing him back to the present. The nurse -- or was he still a nurse? Springer hadn't asked -- had approached the berthside, a scanner and a couple of datapads in his hands.

"No," Springer replied.

First Aid hummed and checked something on a datapad, which he then set aside as he switched the scanner on. Once again, Springer was aware of the mech's vibrant energy field, translating a smile that was invisible behind his mask and visor. "Alright, I'll just take a look for any anomalies..."

Springer nodded and kept obediently still, though he doubted that movement would interrupt the scans too much. And suddenly, the question tumbled from him, in a fervent search for anything else to focus on in the moment: "Are you still a nurse?" First Aid glanced up at him, and Springer felt foolish, suddenly. "Just, every time I see you, I still think 'nurse', but I haven't bothered to check or ask if..."

The smaller mech's energy field flickered, and Springer still felt a smile from it, though now it was more subdued. "You could call me doctor, I suppose," he said. "I trained to take over Ratchet's position."

Springer blinked. "Really?" he said. "That's great -- but, 'trained to'...?" 

First Aid shrugged. "I think as long as Ratchet's around, he's still going to get looked to as an authority," he replied. "We might unofficially share the title, I guess."

"You don't seem bothered by that."

First Aid set the scanner aside and began entering a few more notes on one of the datapads. "I'm not. A lot can be said about getting to the top of a field, but it's still nice to have someone to ask an experienced opinion from," he replied. "Reassuring, a little. Like you don't have to do it completely alone." 

Springer grew quiet at that, and maybe he was still projecting and lost in his own thoughts too much, but it seemed a pointed a remark as ever to setting his mind back to that happy time. Primus, all he could ever think was how it seemed like only yesterday! The same way Garrus-9 still felt sickeningly nearby. As if he could simply reach out and pull aside the dividing curtain of time… 

First Aid was saying something about starting a different round of checks, and Springer agreed -- but now the present was faraway once again.

-x-

_Energon with Kup. Springer had grown used to it, even to expect it. Even now, Kup spoiled him._

_It was more than he deserved._

_Springer sighed as he tried to force those thoughts out of his mind. This time they’d had, with Kup as one of his Wreckers... it was more than Springer could have dreamed. Not only was he close to Kup all the time, but he felt closer_ to _Kup._

_Energon was his to provide this time, and he smiled as he saw Kup enter his room with only a courtesy knock. That, too, spoke of the comfort level between them. As usual, the sight of Kup made his spark flutter in happiness and the infatuation which had always been there -- but was so much stronger now than ever._

_It was a shame such happy feelings were so frequently marred by the stab of guilt that came from seeing the cygar. Not that the device itself was malignant -- in the end, it was more the opposite -- but it was a visual reminder of everything Prowl had done... and it had all been facilitated by Springer. Intentionally, no, but that didn’t make a lick of difference in the end. And really, he only had suspicions about Prowl and things he probably wasn’t telling Springer -- because what was more dangerous? Springer’s good intentions, or Prowl’s dedication to a larger, greater good?_

_Normally these were the sort of thoughts he’d ponder over with the mech right in front of him. But if he started talking that kind of scrap -- even vaguely -- Kup would want to know where all this philosophy came from. Springer wasn’t prepared to answer questions like that. He really did not want to... and guiltily, he knew that only half of it was his agreement with Prowl that Kup could never know the circumstances of his re-entry into the Autobots. Springer didn’t want to break the dream of their time together on the Trion._

_Closer than ever. All he could have dreamed indeed... despite the terrible cost._

_“You’ve looked happier to see me.”_

_As usual, Kup broke Springer out of his more morose thoughts. The younger mech put a smile on his face as he turned his focus on Kup. “Sorry, I got lost in a thought,” he said. He motioned for Kup to sit next to him._

_Kup snorted. “Been happening to you a lot, lately,” he said. But he walked on forward, taking the seat next to Springer. When he looked over the bottle that Springer had brought down, though, he seemed pleased. Springer knew it was one of Kup’s favorites... hard to find, but when they were all over the galaxy, Springer found a way. Anything for that smile and approval._

_Springer shook his helm. “Nothing important,” he insisted. The lie left a stale taste on his glossa, but he ignored it. “And I am happy to see you, as always.”_

_That got a chuckle out of the older mech. “You ain’t too bad a sight, either,” he said._

_Springer chuckled, grinning as he poured their drinks. “Why, you been lookin’ at the twins too long?”_

_Kup raised his cube to his lips, giving a soft grunt of thanks. “Or my own reflection,” he remarked. Springer scoffed, but before he came up with anything to say, Kup just shrugged him off. “Ain’t no thing,” he said. “Scowly face ain’t the prettiest.”_

_Springer just shook his helm again. “What good is ‘pretty’, anyway?” he said. Prowl had an obnoxiously pretty face, and look how fun he was to deal with. And yet there was only another grunt, and Springer had the feeling of optics pretty close on his own frame. When he took his own cube in hand and looked back at Kup, he saw an intensity to the mech’s gaze, which was otherwise as familiar an expression as he was used to seeing._

_Or was it just wishful thinking?_

_Putting it out of mind, Springer drank from his cube and sat back in his chair. There was a companionable silence in the room -- just them, and their engex, and thoughts not yet shared. It was so easy to lose moments, hours, even a whole night this way. Especially with no pressure for the night to go either way -- talk, or silence, or both._

_This was true relaxation, Springer thought. Where else, and with who, could he possibly get this?_

_He leaned forward in his seat, letting out a soft sigh as he rested his cube. “Been kinda slow, hasn’t it?” he remarked. There was a pause, and then Kup started laughing. Springer stared over, almost startled. “What?” he said, somewhere between amused and offended._

_Kup shook his helm, snorting, taking a minute to recover himself. “Nothin’, nothin’, just -- you sounded so disappointed.”_

_Springer grinned a little. “Well... I’m bored. It’s not that I_ want _to send our skidplates into the smelter, but...” He shrugged his broad shoulders, looking sheepish._

_“Nah,” Kup said, waving his free hand and knocking back the rest of his drink. “S’just your type.”_

_“My type?” Springer repeated, definitely amused this time._

_“Yeah,” Kup said. For a moment, he offered no more explanation than that, as he was refilling his cube from the nearby bottle. “All action-y. Makes a good wrecker,” he added, winking._

_Springer grinned wider than ever, feeling those pleased flutters through his systems again. Action, sure, he craved that. Or something a little different. He watched maybe too closely as Kup drank from his refilled cube. Frag, it was like he was at basic training all over again. “And you’re excluding yourself from that type?”_

_Kup grinned around the cygar. “Not entirely,” he replied. He chuckled. “I get circuits itchy for action, too, even at my age.”_

_Springer sat back, crossing his legs and sipping at his engex. “What’s age got to do with it, as long as you’ve got the itch?” he asked. Once again, Springer felt like a significant look was passed his way, but he was too caught up in the moment to think further about it. At least, beyond the silly little flicker of his spark._

_Kup hummed over his energon. “Not a thing, I suppose.”_

_Springer chuckled, but otherwise, they fell into another one of their silences. A warm silence, full of the echos of their laughter and good rapport. His spark felt large and impossibly hot in his chassis as he peeked from the corner of his optic at Kup. The older mech seemed content with the engex and the company, mumbling absently -- but nothing Springer wasn’t accustomed to. As Kup said, his favorite person to talk to was himself._

_Another cube in, and Springer was a bit braver with his words. Or at least, he had slightly less control of his vocalizer. And as he thought of things like their companionship and how close they were, he said something like how they were always so fortunate to have Kup on board with them._

_Or maybe it was how fortunate_ he _was to have Kup on board._

_Either way, Kup gave him a curious look. “You think?” he said._

_Springer chuckled. “I know,” he replied. “I mean, your experience is invaluable anywhere...”_

_Kup muttered something about how many times he’d heard that. But he didn’t sound bothered in the least. Springer just grinned again. He was all smiles lately, like that youngling fresh out of training that he’d been once._

_“But I feel better with you around. Personally.”_

_Kup quirked an optic ridge at that. “Personally,” he repeated._

_The younger mech hummed in assent. “Command don’t feel so lonely with you around,” he replied. He leaned his chin on his free hand, a thoughtful look on his face. “But I like having you around, anyway. Your company... this...” he gestured around the room, “...s’nice.”_ That _was a gross understatement, but Springer still had_ some _control left over himself!_

_Springer turned his helm in time to see a smile on Kup’s features that could be described as soft, even affectionate. Later, he would think about that look. Later he would think about all of the looks Kup had given him that night -- and connect it with an ever emerging pattern. Later, he would only have one conclusion to draw, and it would set his spark aflame and renew an energy inside of him that he’d been holding back for so long._

_Later, he would feel a different type of freedom._

_In the moment, he only smiled back, and tried to think nothing about how close their hands gripping their cubes of engex were._

-x-

“ -- Springer.”

The sound of his name roused him from the memories thick in his processor. Springer blinked his optics and focused on First Aid again. “Huh?” 

First Aid gave him a telling look, despite his entire face being covered up. It was incredible, really, how much more expressive the nurse -- no, the doctor -- was than mechs whose faces Springer saw all the time. Springer gave him an apologetic smile, and it was such an expression which even still shaved vorns off his projected age.

Fortunately, it seemed to work. First Aid shook his helm. “I was saying, your physical checks out,” he replied. “You’re fit. Not a crossed wire or a bolt out of place.”

Not that either of them had expected otherwise, really. That was another thing that First Aid’s ‘look’ had communicated. 

“Good to hear,” Springer said. Because what else could he say?

First Aid let out a hum of acknowledgment, but he was otherwise quiet as he set about packing away his diagnostic tools. Springer sat still and silent, firmly in the present now, but on unsure footing. After a moment, First Aid turned to face him again, and Springer straightened his posture as though braced for some kind of news. But First Aid’s field only flickered curiously against his own. “...Was there anything else?”

Springer sighed. First Aid was discerning, but then, Springer knew that. Was it why he’d wandered down here with the excuse of a physical? Maybe. Sometimes he had to be asked things in order to talk about them. “I don’t know,” he said.

First Aid seemed to glance about the room and make sure it was clear before he stepped closer. “So you came for a physical, but it’s not your body that’s ill,” he remarked.

Springer smiled, and it felt grim on his lips. “Something like that,” he said.

First Aid hummed and nodded. “I thought so,” he said plainly. “And, well, I don’t know how much I can help -- I am a medical expert, after all -- but...”

The larger mech sighed again. “Yeah, I know,” he said. “But it’s not something I wanna worry Roadbuster with. Actually, I’m not sure I should worry anyone with it, but I’m getting nowhere on my own and ending up... lost.”

First Aid was quiet a moment. “Is it because Kup is here?” he finally asked.

At that, Springer stared. He knew First Aid was quick, but -- “Uh, that’s...” He shifted his weight, only slightly soothed by the flicker of another smile through First Aid’s field.

“I’m not trying to butt in, I just can’t help but notice how you two keep missing each other accidentally on purpose,” he remarked.

Springer shook his helm. “It’s my fault,” he said. “...So much is my fault. Avoiding it is stupid, really, but here I am.”

First Aid was silent again, but his presence and the steady flickering of his EM field was comforting. He wasn’t expecting grand answers -- or even answers at all -- from the medic, but at least being nearby and talking to him was soothing. It was the most peace he’d felt since he woke up and heard Kup’s voice, and lately, he couldn’t ask more than that. But First Aid did eventually speak: “So you’re avoiding it because you feel guilty?”

Springer grunted. “It’s not exactly a new feeling,” he muttered. He just didn’t have a dream-perfect assignment on a ship full of Wreckers to help distract from that, now.

First Aid nodded. “So it’s confronting that feeling, then.”

It was Springer’s turn to fall silent for a moment. Thoughtful. “Yeah,” he finally said. “Never was good at any of that. Don’t matter what it is.”

The medic chuckled. “No one’s perfect,” he remarked, and Springer smiled at the tease that flared through his field. 

“Well, of course not,” Springer said, running his fingers over a kneeguard. But right now, he felt far less perfect than usual.

First Aid nodded again. “I won’t waste your time telling you that the only way to resolve whatever you’re dealing with, positive or negative, is to talk to him about it,” he said, drawing himself up a little. “You seem to know that very well.” Springer made another non-committal grunting sound, which drew an amused huff from First Aid’s vents. “But if you still need time to sort your thoughts... the only patient on file around here, technically, is you. So you can hang around here as needed.”

A grateful smile passed over Springer’s features. “Thanks, Aid,” he said softly.

“Just doing my duty,” First Aid replied genially, before going off to busy himself with some other task in the infirmary. Springer was content to remain in his seat and watch him for a while, comforted in the moment, though as always the darkness loomed in the bottom of his sparkchamber.

-x-

Fortuitous enough then, that when Springer felt brave enough to see Kup for more than a few passing moments, he got a contact from the mech himself. A message ping, text only -- and inside was a time, location, and a single word:

energon

Springer tried to smile at that, but now he had a deadline to worry about. No more of the half-formed feelings, standing outside the door to the facility’s observatory where he knew Kup lingered, before aborting out of fear again and retreating to his own room and the gift of engex that had been in it the day he’d woken. (Roadbuster, he was sure.) No more staying just out of First Aid’s sight while he pretended he had some kind of business in the infirmary.

It would all be over, soon, like First Aid had said. And some of that was comforting. 

Mostly, it felt damning.

-x-

Energon with Kup. Springer smiled ruefully at the familiar thought. He brought the rest of the bottle from his room -- there was half, at least -- and stared at the familiar sight of the closed entrance to the observatory. He was painfully precise on the time Kup had given, but he knew the other mech was waiting on him anyway.

Kup had always been waiting on him. Springer knew that, and yet...

He drew in a quick vent, and palmed open the door before his fleeting courage could slip away again.

-x-

Kup hadn’t been entirely sure if he expected the invitation to be accepted. All he’d gotten was an acknowledgment of receipt, and -- well, he was sure it hadn’t sounded much like an invitation. But despite how good he was at waiting, he was tired of it. 

Springer stood in the doorway for a moment, looking as though he’d thoroughly talked himself into circles already. Go figure. Despite how quick he was to act on emotions, Springer did a lot more thinking than he was given credit for, too. 

Kup was getting where he couldn’t tolerate the silence, either. “Chair ain’t gonna bite ya, lad,” he said, tilting his helm. 

That, at least, seemed to work. Springer stepped into the room, relieving the door sensor and letting it slide shut with a soft hiss. The larger mech seemed to hesitate for just another moment before he finally crossed the room and sat in the offered chair. Kup finally noticed the bottle Springer was fidgeting with and snorted. “Roadbuster?” he said.

Springer blinked, looking up at Kup, and then at the bottle -- finally connecting the remark. “Heh -- yeah,” he replied. “Wonder how long he was saving that.”

Kup hummed. “Probably quite some time,” he said.

“Yeah, I’m sure it got a nice bit of age on it while I slept,” Springer remarked.

The older mech chuckled; this was nice and familiar. It was a start. Frag, he’d forgotten how much he missed this. Just the simplicity of sitting next to Springer and talking, over some energon was so satisfactory... But it wasn’t so simple anymore, was it? Nothing was simple. Primus, this scrap was heavy. But he just wanted it acknowledged, for the most part. Because it seemed even heavier on Springer, and all of that was interference. 

It wasn’t like he could stay away from Springer, in the end.

-x-

_Things had gotten into ever more of a tight spiral, and Springer was riding high like a glider on the warm updrafts of this shimmering, glowing feeling. Kup knew, and he more than knew -- he reciprocated. All this time he’d just waited. But that figured -- neither of them were inclined to talk about that kind of thing. In fact, the simple understanding was more than enough._

_So everything was the same, and yet different. Springer was, on a whole, in a brighter mood, despite how dark their missions got, and it pushed the heavy, lingering guilt to dogging a few more steps behind._

_Wonderful._

_He’d finalized a roster of recruits for an upcoming mission. In fact, he should be thinking about that more -- Garrus-9 was no joking matter -- but all he was thinking of was catching up to Kup. He was bringing the list along to get Kup’s opinion, because he always did, but... honestly he just wanted to see Kup. The need for having an excuse was long past them, and yet it was such a habit -- but Kup found it endearing. Or, at least, funny._

_It took him tracking through a few decks of the Trion to finally track down Kup. Normally he wasn’t very difficult to find -- go figure. But this was much more opportune, in an almost private corner of the ship, and he smiled when he saw Kup’s familiar form, and when he paused as Springer called out his name._

_Right away, he seemed to notice the datapad still clutched in Springer’s hand -- Springer had nearly forgotten upon seeing Kup. Some excuse it was, if he couldn’t remember about it! “Prowl ain’t givin’ you even more paperwork, is he?” Kup remarked, gesturing at it._

_Springer snorted. “No, no,” he said, waving his free hand. Then he offered the datapad to Kup. “It’s my final roster of the rookies for the next mission.” Kup took it, glancing down at its screen as he absently rolled the cygar between his denta. Springer made a dismissive sound. “Well, it doesn’t require immediate attention, but I was a little ahead of schedule, so I thought I’d bring it by anyway.”_

_Kup peered up at him, blue optics glinting. “Well, it’s not like it needs my approval anyway,” Kup replied. “But I assume you already sent it to Prowl.”_

_“Mm, yeah -- and Magnus. I don’t think they collude on that, but whatever. Magnus deserves the heads up if he’s gonna fly us in close on the Xantium,” Springer said with a shrug._

_“Yeah, ‘course,” Kup said. He slipped the datapad into his subspace instead._

_Now they were just loitering in the hall, but as usual, they had no reason for just quietly being in each other’s company. No excuses required._

_That warm excitement, which also felt like contentment, bubbled up through Springer’s circuits again. And it must have shown somehow, on his face or in his field, because Kup started laughing. “You’re practically giddy, lad. You can’t be that amped to see Garrus-9,” he said._

_Springer leaned against the wall, nearer to Kup. The promise of a mission was enough to get any Wrecker revved a couple of notches, but that certainly wasn’t the culprit here. (And Springer had the sneaking suspicion that Kup knew that, too.) “Not exactly,” he replied._

_Kup’s grin settled a bit, turned into more of a smile than he’d ever seen on the older mech’s lips. “Yeah?” he said, quirking an optic ridge. “So what is it then, mightn’t I ask?”_

_Springer hummed thoughtfully, leaning in a little, his field mingling a tad more aggressively with Kup’s. “Mm, more to do with a certain someone,” he said._

_“A certain someone,” Kup repeated._

_“Or... a certain gesture for that someone that I’ve been thinking about,” Springer said, warm teasing effused through his field._

_Kup barked out another laugh. “A certain gesture.”_

_“There an echo in here?” Springer teased._

_Kup scoffed. “You gonna quit playin’ word games and tell me what you’ve been daydreaming about?” It was more a jab than a tease, but Springer recognized it for what it was anyway._

_Springer hummed as he leaned in even more, bent just above even with Kup’s height. “I’m more about actions than words,” he said._

_“Coulda fooled me,” Kup remarked._

_Snorting, Springer lifted a hand and tugged the cygar from between Kup’s lips. And before the mech could say anything in protest, Springer finished off the distance between them, and pressed their lips together._

_He felt Kup’s vents hitch -- in surprise, perhaps, but Springer was happy to let it go to his ego, anyway. With the way they were angled, it was very easy for Springer to push him up against the wall, though he was ever so gentle in the action, and in the brush of his lips against Kup’s. But then, it didn’t take long for Kup to get into it, and soon there were demanding hands on his frame. Hungry, as though they’d longed for the touch for so long._

_As long as Springer had longed for it? He truly wondered._

_Maybe one day he’d ask. Right now, the only important thing was the press of their frames together, fitting beautifully, and the flare of their energy fields spiraling high, hot and crackling with a charge that was nowhere near what it could build to be. And yet it was enthralling anyway._

_A comm. ping flickered at the corner of his HUD, and Springer ignored it. They broke the kiss once, just for a few hot vents, before going back into it like starved things._

_And yet that ping kept reoccurring. Springer knew he couldn’t ignore his actual duty for long, though it was sorely tempting with Kup grasping onto his frame that way... Sighing, he broke from the kiss again, and activated his comm. this time. “Yes?” he said, trying to sound not at all as annoyed as he felt, or as breathless as he was._

_From how amused Kup looked, Springer wagered a guess that it wasn’t a good job._

_Perceptor’s voice came on the line, sounding critical but otherwise normal. “Prowl has been contacting the ship, asking for you,” he replied._

_Springer grunted, leaning his helm against the wall with a gentle thunk. “And what the frag does he want?” Springer demanded. While he was talking and distracted, Kup discreetly snitched the cygar back from Springer’s grasp._

_He could practically hear Perceptor’s lips press thin. “I do not know the entirety,” he replied. “But he made mention of a roster.”_

_Springer sighed. “Alright, tell him to hold onto his damn skidplate, I’ll call him back soon.”_

_“Yes, sir,” Perceptor said, and promptly cut the line._

_Springer grimaced down at Kup, who looked so tickled at the mech he might burst. “Well?”_

_“Prowl wants to have a chat about my roster,” Springer said. “I was early sending that, couldn’t he have done something more productive with his time first?”_

_Kup laughed, the cygar rolling about his mouth. For a moment, a pinprick of guilt and doubt threatened the happy bubble that was his spark. But it was soon chased away. “Are you actually underestimating Prowl’s enthusiasm for paperwork?” Kup asked._

_This time, at least, Springer joined in the laughter. “Yeah, you’re right,” he said. With a sigh, he stood up straight again. “No clue what the frag he wants to discuss about the lineup though, he’s never had too much of an issue with the mechs I pick out.”_

_Kup shook his helm. “With Prowl, there’s no telling,” he replied. Once again, Springer nodded in agreement._

_“I should call him and take care of it before he gets himself so wound up his doorwings fly off,” Springer grumbled. He was practically pouting!_

_“’Course.” Once again, Kup appeared amused, and he too stood proper off the wall again, and teasingly bumped his hip against Springer’s frame. “We can always continue our discussion later.”_

_Springer arched an optic ridge. “Our discussion,” he repeated, a smile curling his lips._

_“Mmm, somethin’ like that.”_

_Warmth stirred in Springer’s spark (and much lower on his frame than that), and he smirked. “Looking forward to it,” he replied._

-x- 

Springer gazed over at Kup. They were so close that he could reach out and touch the mech -- and yet he’d never felt further away. Everything Kup had said so far was clearly to put him at ease. And Springer wanted to let it work, it was so tempting to just slip back into how it had been... 

But how it had been was a lie spun between him and Prowl, around Kup. He should be grateful for that short, sweet time with Kup that he’d gotten -- but here he was, longing for more. How could he deserve that? He still remembered the feel of Kup’s lips -- he still hadn’t adjusted to the time between them that Kup felt.

Springer bowed his helm, gazing into the liquid in his cube, though he found no answers there. 

From next to him, Kup vented a sigh. Springer didn’t dare peek over. “You look like a mech waiting on sentencing,” he remarked. Springer let out a humorless laugh; it wasn’t an inaccurate comparison. “...You really expecting me to rain down fire from the smelter or something?”

This time, Springer did gaze over. “What should I be expecting?” he asked.

Kup shook his helm. “A conversation?”

Springer drank from his cube, leaning back in his chair now. “What do you wanna know?” he said. “I mean -- I’m sure you have questions.”

Kup hummed. “Some,” he said. “Mostly, I just want to hear about it through you. Your voice has been gone for quite a time now.” He paused, then added, “And I think there’s some of it that you don’t know. But I ain’t gonna worry you with it, not now.”

Of course. Springer fragging knew it, of course. But his mouth made a hard, grim line over it anyway. 

And yet he was silent. Because he knew what Kup was going to say...

“Why did you take me off that planet?” he said. 

“I couldn’t leave you there,” Springer replied. An answer he’d given many times. This time, Kup clearly found it unsatisfactory.

“I know that I was practically in pieces, and completely out of my mind,” he replied. 

Springer frowned. “I couldn’t have known that until we got you out of there!”

“Sure, but you had to know somethin’ was wrong, when all of your teams kept disappearing,” Kup replied.

“Yeah, I thought the planet was fragging dangerous and that we needed to find you quick,” he grumbled.

“We?” Kup repeated.

Springer clenched his fists. “What do you want me to say?” he snapped.

Kup huffed, setting his cube aside on the table. “You could at least admit that you were being selfish!” 

“Fine!” Springer said, and he knew it was true, but all the emotion came up anyway. “I was! I was being selfish! And you should know why!” 

Kup was quiet for a moment, playing idly with his half-full cube of engex. “I know,” he said.

Springer sighed, running a hand over his face. “I didn’t think... I don’t know,” he said. “I -- I was so desperate to find you, once we knew where you’d been stranded. I thought that whatever happened could be made right, as long as we found you alive.”

Quiet, then a soft chuckle from Kup. “Your optimism was never far from you.” This remark was oddly warm, making Springer lift his helm and look at him full-on again.

“Optimism,” Springer repeated. “I was afraid you were lost forever...”

“Well, I was lost,” Kup said, sighing again. “But you believed otherwise. And you funneled plenty of Autobots into rescuing me...”

Kup didn’t have to finish the sentence. Springer had kept putting soldiers through the grinder -- wherein the grinder was Kup, tearing them limb from limb. Out of it all, he was sure that that was what tore them both up the most. And there was the question that still hung in the air, one they hardly dared to approach: had the cost been worth it?

Even with foresight, Springer wasn’t sure if he was capable of making different decisions.

“And then Prowl went about sticking his fingers into everything,” Springer muttered. 

Kup tapped his fingers against his kneeguard. “Yeah, he’s good at that,” Kup replied. “But it’s thanks to his scheming, I’m here and functional.”

And, of course, the only reason to be mad about that was how Springer had been sure that Prowl would hold that over his helm. He hadn’t, but he’d never trusted the too-easy factor of that. And from what Kup said, he’d been right in his suspicions, at least a little. Prowl had made them into chess pieces and maneuvered them about, and they’d been happy enough to go along, for a bit.. But, in the end, it was the nature of Prowl’s job, wasn’t it? (It was just so much easier to have someone to be angry at. Anger and passion were hot, and quick, as easy and satisfying as when he’d punched Prowl as soon as he’d tracked him down on Kimia.)

Springer didn’t even realize he’d been grinding his jaw as he thought, until he had to make more of an effort than usual to sip from his engex.

“You keep bracing,” Kup remarked. He tapped at his kneeguard again. “All this -- and everything that came before -- and you’re still expecting some kind of blow? Shouting? What?”

Springer rolled his lower lip between his denta. “Dunno. Guess I’m waiting for damnation, or...”

“...Forgiveness?” Kup supplied. Springer gazed over again, looking pained and impossibly young. The look must have said it all, because Kup just sighed and shook his helm. “If that were impossible, would I be here in the first place?”

Springer was very quiet. “So what is it you want, then?” he said. “You’ve always been waiting for me, some way or another. What am I missing this time?”

Kup tilted his helm, making his own little grunts and fidgets, before finally saying, “Hoped you could forgive yourself.”

Springer’s lips trembled as he heard that, and for a long moment he had no idea how to respond, or even process. “...How can I?” he said. “Just like that?”

Kup snorted. “No kind of forgiveness is just the flip of a switch, lad,” he remarked.

“Guess not,” Springer murmured. “But I don’t understand...”

“What?”

“...All that, and you want to -- what, pick up where we left off?” Springer looked at him helplessly.

Kup looked thoughtful. For a moment, he was back to sloshing engex around in his cube, and focusing on that. “I guess I don’t know exactly what I want,” he said. “Wanna figure that out, but -- together. And I wanna help unload the weight on your shoulders, if I can. Just can’t help myself, yanno,” he added, snorting softly. 

Springer tilted his helm. “Can’t help yourself?” he repeated.

“Just like you couldn’t help but throw everything into the chance to save me, all that time ago,” Kup said, giving him a knowing look. “If you’re around, if it’s possible... wanna be nearby.”

Despite it all, Springer smiled. Something in his spark loosened, as he nodded. “I can go with that,” he said. Because it was the same for him, in the end. They couldn’t resist being drawn together any more than Luna-2 could escape Cybertron’s gravity. 

Kup smiled, brought their cubes together with a soft clink.

For once, he didn’t feel so heavy, and something kindled bright and fierce in his spark:

Hope.

**Author's Note:**

> visit me on [@prowlish](https://twitter.com/prowlish) on twitter!! :)


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